The 2nd ranked black magician, Dolce, was very unhappy with this quest. Why did he have to protect the entrance while the others raided the Vatican?

‘I’m not a mere dog!’

Dolce had won the position of the 2nd ranked black magician with his talent and efforts. As the second-best among thousands of competitors, he was proud to be a genius.

In the first place, black magicians found it harder to hunt than warriors, so it was great that he had reached his third advancement.

Yet he had to protect the entrance?

Why did he need to block the entrance?

Would the enemy even come here?

‘Dammit! How long are they planning to waste a talent like me?’

Wasting time while doing nothing was extremely annoying. Dolce’s complaints increased greater and greater in number as dozens of minutes passed by.

He was jealous of Rose, who had broken into the Vatican and would get tremendous rewards.

‘If I just get a chance to become active...’

He would be as active as Rose, become one of Yatan’s Servants, and eventually surpass Rose!

Dolce was filled with this conviction.

His confidence was based on a realistic analysis, not arrogance.

The former 1st ranked black magician, Yura, felt like an inescapable wall while Rose had no such force.

Dolce didn’t think he was even worse than Rose. He just didn’t get a chance because he was unlucky.

‘A chance. If I get a chance, my position would be reversed with Rose right now...

Huh?

’

While Dolce was blaming his luck and was just carrying out his mission without any motivation, he sensed something.

Someone had crossed the barrier established at the foot of the mountain the Vatican was on, yet there was no notification window about the barrier being destroyed.

It meant that the intruder was entitled to cross the barrier, which signified they were evil and likely to be on the side of the Yatan Church.

‘Was someone assigned a trivial task like me?’

They must be quite angry.

Dolce got up from his rock sulkily, wondering who had joined him in this petty task.

“Hey.”

A black outfit...?

The appearance of his colleague in the darkness couldn’t be distinguished from this distance.

Dolce frowned and tried to get closer.

Then the moonlight shone through the rain clouds and revealed a newcomer wearing a crown on his head. The beautiful red and black jewels on the crown absorbed the moonlight and glowed brightly.

[You have been confused by the target! You have become defenseless. You can’t take any action, and your defense and magic resistance are reduced by 40%.]

“...!?”

The biggest variable in combat was a person’s status.

The consequences of being caught in an abnormal state were severe, and the essence of winning a battle was to overcome it quickly.

The 2nd ranked black magician, Dolce, couldn’t be unaware of this fact. Like other rankers, he raised his resistance to various conditions to the extreme.

Thus, he hadn’t expected to become ‘confused’ just by looking at a person.

Was this at the same level as the ‘medusa’ that petrified a target by looking at them?

Dolce was so creeped out that he got goosebumps. He felt like his breathing was going to stop, but there was one piece of good news.

[There is one second remaining for the confused state.]

The level of the confusion wasn’t very high. Dolce’s high resistance meant he was only affected by it for one second.

Dolce was safe since the unknown person was 15 meters away from him. He judged that he could escape from the confusion and use magic before the person reached him.

‘Once I’ve confirmed who it is...’

One second… It felt like it took unusually long for this one second to pass.

Dolce braced himself and searched the face of the target that was getting closer and closer.

The person had developed jaw muscles, a high nose, and sharp eyes. The sharp black eyes looked coldly at the 2nd ranked black magician like he was a bug.

‘What?’ Dolce recalled a person with this combination of features and was astonished for two reasons.

The first reason was that the finally visible ID of the enemy matched the person he had thought of. The second reason...

‘Fast?’

The target, who had been standing 15 meters away, moved and arrived right in front of Dolce in one second.

“Get lost.” The target was a man who wore demonic energy that was darker than night. He crushed the sky above the sky and rose above him.

The Overgeared King Grid showed off the power of Blackening and Quick Movements as he swung his sword.

Dolce and the five black magicians with him were caught up in the black energy blades.

Their mission had been to prepare for the enemy’s intrusion.

Unlike Dolce’s thoughts, it wasn’t a trivial mission.

Anxiety and fear filled Dolce as he was hit by Grid’s black flames and his health fell to the bottom.

‘Can they endure it?’

Would the black magicians and Yatan’s Servants struggling with the enemy in the Vatican be able to cope with this enemy?

Yatan’s Servants were strong, but Rebecca’s Daughters were present at the Vatican.

Dolce judged that those Yatan’s Servants on the battlefield wouldn’t be able to go against this variable called Grid.

“S...top!” Just before his death, Dolce used the danger flare that he never thought would be required.

He hadn’t been able to use magic against the intruder, but it was significant that he endured a blow and managed to send the signal flare.

What would happen if he tried to shoot black magic instead? It would be useless though since he couldn’t stop Grid anyway. Sending the signal flare was a wiser decision.

Dolce smiled with satisfaction at his own judgment and turned to gray.

The people who would replace him appeared.

“They are nobodies.”

The black magicians and black knights, who were scattered around the foothills, ran when they saw the signal. Like Dolce, the first thing they did was attack the intruder with magic.

Normally, after simultaneously casting different curses, they would thoroughly neutralize the target. Then the black knights would finish off the target with their sword.

It was a simple and effective combination.

“It didn’t work?”

However, the black magic didn’t have an effect?

The black magicians were astonished at the black-haired man who resisted all types of black magic and hurriedly shouted, “Not yet...! Wait!”

Alas, it was too late. The black knights had already moved. They remembered the combined attack which they had practiced countless times and flew toward the target the moment the curses were released.

Six sharp swords filled with corrupted sword energy flooded toward the man in black. The black knights naturally thought that their swords would hit him.

“...!”

Yet the man moved at a speed that was difficult to follow with their eyes and avoided the attacks. Then he drew a circle with his sword and cut all the black knights around him.

“

Cough...!

”

Unlike the Rebecca Church, it was hard for the Yatan Church to foster knights. Divine magic had defensive spells which increased the physical ability of the caster in the initial stage, whereas early black magic often reduced physical abilities.

Compared to the paladins, the black knights had low defense and high attack power, but having high attack power was meaningless if the attacks couldn’t hit the target.

One sword strike, a second sword strike...

The black knights died every time Grid swung his Enlightenment Sword.

As the black magicians watched their colleagues suffer greatly, they felt extremely fearful and stood still like stone statues.

“Wave.” Grid released a sword technique the moment Blackening and Quick Movements ended.

Black waves of energy poured out in all directions, destroying the black magicians, the trees, and the rocks.

Grid cleared the surrounding area and finally glimpsed the Vatican.

“Irene!! Lord...!”

‘Please be safe.’

Grid summoned Overgeared Corn and rushed forward aggressively.

***

Damian’s shield and armor endured the fists that were striking it continuously, but the symbols of the pope—the silver armor and large shield—were being crushed.

Hill’s fists, that flew at a rate of 12 times per second, were definitely fast and powerful.

Pope Damian was almost like a cockroach with his defense magic, buff magic, and healing magic.

He had yet to die despite Hill hitting him with his attack of 12 fists per second for a few minutes.

“Persistent bastard!” Hill gritted his teeth.

Damian still had skills to use, but inwardly, he wasn’t feeling very good about this. Honestly, Damian was frustrated.

‘Is it a skill?’

It was difficult to see the fists that Hill was wielding as a basic attack.

Whenever he swung his fists, he entered a super-armored state which resisted CC.

Hill punched 12 times per second, then there was a one-second gap.

‘No matter how I think about it, it seems like a skill.’

Damian raised his shield the moment the punches came flying. As he took two steps back to offset the shockwave delivered through the shield, he was convinced Hill’s attack was a skill.

‘The moment it activates, super-armor is triggered. The skill will hit 12 times, then there is a cooldown of one second...!’

It could be called a fraudulent skill.

Damian speculated that Hill had the greatest attack strength amongst Yatan’s Servants.

‘There is only one attack pattern, and it is very simple but...’

It wasn’t a form of attack that Damian could cope with.

12 fists were swung per second unconditionally, and they weren’t easy to defend or fight back against as the timing to counterattack was only a one-second gap.

Unfortunately for Pope Damian, he didn’t have a skill which dealt powerful damage in one blow. He lacked attack power in exchange for a perfect balance and a large number of wide-area skills.

So, it was impossible for Damian to knock down Hill during the one-second gap.

‘The situation is bad. This can’t continue.’

Damian couldn’t be tied up by Hill forever. If he couldn’t defeat Hill, then it was better for him to help his allies or kill the black magicians.

However, who could deal with Hill except for him?

Rebecca’s Daughters and the Red Knights were engaged in battle with the other Yatan’s Servants.

‘If I can’t tie up Hill, my allies will be slaughtered...’

In the end, would he have to keep fighting Hill?

Despite being unable to hurt Hill, would Damian have to keep defending while watching his allies repel the enemies?

‘No! It isn’t a situation where I can rely on anyone else!’

Damian couldn’t ignore that the Overgeared forces protecting Queen Irene and Prince Lord were exhausted.

Unlike the Red Knights, the Overgeared troops had fought the enemies from the beginning and reached their limits. They were in great danger while Damian was still tying up Hill, which meant Irene and Lord could die.

In the end, Damian had to choose.

He had to deal with HIll alone, but it didn’t necessarily have to take a long time.

‘I will try it.’

Damian recalled the combat method that Grid had shown during the National Competition.

He had hit harder in return for every hit received.

That’s right. Damian planned to fight back instead of defending against Hill’s 12 punches.

‘My attack power is weaker, but I have to try.’

He would be hit by Hill, then he would strike back.

Damian adopted this new combat style straight away, swinging his shield instead of blocking the flying fists with spells or his shield.

“

Puhahat!

Stupid fool!” Hill laughed when he read Damian’s intentions.

Damian could only swing his sword 2–3 times per second, while Hill could punch 12 times per second.

“Two or three hits in comparison to 12 hits...? What does that mean?

Puhahahat!

”

Damian was using a heal? It was futile though as Hill had been hiding a hidden card!

“Strike harder!

Adadadada!

”

Hill had an attack power buff.

His fists suddenly turned red, and he started to deal twice the damage to Damian.

Damian’s healing skills couldn’t keep up. “

Kuk...!

”

“Teacher Damian!”

“Your Holiness!”

It was a great crisis!

The Rebecca members and royalty turned pale when they saw Pope Damian start to be pushed.

In particular, Lord was filled with deep frustration.

“I...! I wish I was an adult!”

Then he would’ve easily saved his mother from the crisis and would’ve helped Damian.

When would he become an adult?

Lord clenched his small fists and tears filled his eyes.

“Pagma’s Swordsmanship.” A man dropped in through the broken ceiling of the banquet hall.

His target, Hill, scoffed, “Who is this bastard? Do you want to taste my fist too?”

Hill entered the super-armored state and aimed one, two, three... twelve fists at the man.

His fists, which couldn’t be followed by eyes, aimed at the man’s face, chest, and sides.

It happened in just one second.

In that one second, the man...

“Link.”

He cut Hill 30 times per second in a much stronger manner!